Virtuous Punishment
by ARollingStone
Summary: D/s, AH - Professor Edward Masen arrives at Columbia University, his new place of work, to continue with his Psychology teaching. But, his self-controlled world is turned upside down by a self-righteous young woman that piques his darkest of desires.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**After a brief period of removing this story from my page due to the little updates I can offer, I've decided, due to popular demand to upload the two chapters again. I will be updating the story at two week intervals (though this is not a fixed time scale.)**

**I've been pretty damn shocked by the interest in my first post on here, so thank you to everyone that was originally following this journey. **

**Professor Masen & Bella can be found on twitter, playing out the same story in role-playing story line. Please be warned that they are MUCH MUCH further ahead than what is posted here and contain a high level of mature content. If you wish to follow catch them here: OhMasen & SereneSwan.**

**Anyway, allow me to introduce Virtuous Punishment...**

**Fiction banner: .  
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><p><em>Coffee? Check. Lesson plan? Check. Wallet? Check. Appearance?<em>

Glancing into the window placed perpendicular to his path, Edward Masen ran a hand through his unruly hair, tugging at its ends in habitual need and smirking back at his shining emerald eyes. They danced with vivid memory from the night before. Sweat laced women moaning in self-indulgence and a glass of the finest scotch. Sweeping his tongue over his lips, the taste of liquor and leather still lingered on his palate, delicious in many ways. Masen's reflection, however, left much to be desired, but that didn't stop the girls from smiling as he strode through the lobby of Columbia University.

_If only they knew the kind of trouble these, pearly whites could get them into. If only._

Reaching the reception desk he placed his briefcase down by his feet, which were only ever wrapped up in the finest Italian leather, unless working out. He then stood tall over the woman hunched at the keyboard, relentlessly typing in the final words of a roughly scripted letter.

Clearing his throat harshly, already irritated by her rude gesture of choosing to ignore him, his callous stare fell down upon her with scrutiny and hastily he snapped.

"Mr. Masen, for Professor Billy Black."

Startled, she flinched and cast her eyes up, Masen's own boring into hers with irritation. He smirked inwardly, watching her cheeks flush and then as she flustered around, managing to drop the phone twice before holding it to her ear correctly. Being a harsh man, his gaze didn't cease plaguing her expression so brutally until she was barely able to speak.

"P-Prof- Professor B-Black? There's a Mr.-a Mr. Masen here t-to see you," Her staggered breath rasped hurriedly, into the mouthpiece. "Mhm - yes sir, I'll s-send him through. You may g-"

Lifting an open palm as she spoke to him, her mouth closed. "Third floor, room 306?" he asked shortly. His head inclined to one side, waiting for her to object or confirm. Yet instead, her lips parted- the lower one hanging dry of words and moist with amazement. Finally letting out an exasperated sigh, Masen headed for the stairs, briefcase in hand and shoulders broadly bridged at the base of his neck.

He carried himself well for a reason, for Edward Masen wasn't a typical Professor. He had a past, like everyone, but his was a tormenting and a haunting past. It was in his dreams and his reality and he could only control it in a single covetous and corrupt way.

-oOo-

Professor Black's office was much how he remembered: books strewn and piled in just about every direction, an unfathomable stench of smoke, and a fire alarm that didn't work. Chuckling, Masen looked down at his feet in thought to Professor Black's unyielding ways.

_Even the law won't stop Billy Black from getting his 20-a-day fix. _

The lecture hall quickly fills with students for their early morning lesson- each of them taking a seat with an array of folders and text books, organizing their notes and stationary. Out of sheer routine Masen surveyed for possible talent, his trained eyes searching for something that he still couldn't quite describe when hunting for a new victim. An aura, yes, something that cannot only been seen, but felt deep within the most sinister of his desires.

A series of lavish stares met his wandering eyes with horror, the women they belonged to shifting awkwardly, perplexed into flushed cheeks and occasional over-eager smiles.

_Too skinny, too dirty, too short, too blonde, too slutty, way too young and way too _male_. He listed off._

Displeased as Professor Black shut the doors- confirming that this was it, the younger Professor turned straight in his seat to face the narrow end of the lecture hall.

_Well there goes that idea Masen_.

There was a desk placed in the center of the teaching area, a series of whiteboards marked and smeared hanging on the wall, and a good amount of space expanded from one end of the room to the other, allowing Billy's wheelchair to move with ease as he spoke.

_This is going to take a while; he's never been one for getting to the point. I just want to fucking teach..._

Sweeping a hand over his face, Masen suppressed a groan, his tolerance for this man wearing thin. Not that he had much tolerance for anyone anyway.

-oOo-

Bella Swan's tattered, un-laced Converse padded the floor with sprinting rubbery squeaks. She did not care that soon her hair would be matted in a sweaty mop to the top of her head. She did not care for how her laces swung so tantalizingly close threatening to trip her. In fact, all she _did_ care about was the last straw she so desperately clung on to. Professor Black had warned her too many times before, about her poor punctuality to his classes and today would be no exception.

_Stupid stupid stupid... I'm stupid. This is going to cost me my place on the course. Oh, please no. I couldn't bear having to face my parents... They'd disown me! They can't marry off a brainless daughter. Oh, please. Please!_

Bella checked her watch.

_NO!_

With the speed of a hare and the tact of a just born giraffe- all legs without the slightest amount of skill in using them, she uneasily turned the corner, cursing that the door she was about to burst through was already shut. Though she knew it would be.

Slowing enough to try and catch her breath, the clumsy Swan placed a hand lightly to her chest, as if to protect herself from the evident bollocking she was about to receive.

Her free hand reached to grasp the door knob and her heart sank right into the pit of her stomach.

-oOo-

The doors at the back of the room crept open, evoking Masen to turn to the back of the room. Skimming over the heads of fervidly horny students, he searched for the cause of the noise which was enough to disturb Professor Black's never ending flow. The rest of the class looked up from their doodles and scrupulous note taking to crane their heads back, intent with curiosity.

For a moment no one appeared, and the door seemed to have gained a mind of its own. But, as they say, all good things come with time. A mantra and innuendo Professor E. Masen happened to live by.

Blinking sporadically, he watched as a slender frame entered timidly, hurriedly looking for a seat. She stared at the floor, hiding her face as she stepped further into the room. Despite her watchful behavior, a lesson in gravity ensued sending her stumbling and then tripping over her own feet, face planting the ground in a heap of limbs and books; like it was more natural to her than breathing. Masen's upper lip pressed to his lower and he chuckled quietly with the rest of the class. The clumsy body cursed in whispers from beneath a curtain of soft brown hair and slowly rose from the nylon carpet, collecting books and folders along the way.

_Walking disaster._

Finally horizontal from the floor, a dainty hand cleared the locks from her features and like a fire doused in water, the laughter was extinguished from Masen's gut.

_Holy...fuck me. Ungh... God, thank you._

Her oval shaped face had full cheeks, which were filled with a crimson hue, abashed in waves of discomfort and social awkwardness. Sparkling, doe brown eyes fleeted around the room as she searched for where she dropped her pride and perfectly ample lips pursed together before blunted teeth bit so yearningly into the pink hue of her doughy lower lip. Masen could barely hear Professor Black's grumbling.

"Miss Swan, I thought we had already discussed your tardiness. You said it wouldn't happen again."

"I-I'm sorry, Professor Black, my alarm it..." Her voice was smooth, yet maladroit. Sensing it would be in her better interest to shut her mouth, she shuffled down the stairs, her eyes constantly darting around the room. Wall to wall, person to person.

And then she did it. She went and made the most dangerous mistake of her life. She looked straight into Masen's wild, yearning eyes. Her breath caught in her throat, hot and chalky in texture as she laid eyes upon him.

_Oh my...he's...so...edible._

Bella's heart lifted from her stomach. It was shrouded dramatically in harmonious singing and basking virtuous white light, like the teenage fantasy she had never fallen victim to. It fluttered, rushed in a poetic iambic pentameter for this man who had captured her so dominantly with his beautiful eyes.

The high end of Masen's alter-ego was awakened from a long hibernation. He was hungry. Starving, in fact. And suddenly, found himself fighting to say seated, a civil war with his self-control. She stepped into the empty row behind him, and he couldn't help but turn around to look at her as she sat. He smiled. His most velvet and suggestive of smiles and within that second, any of the little confidence she had left melted away. She shrunk in her chair, smiling bashfully. The gentle rose shade returning to her cheeks.

_I want her. She's mine. _

He decided.

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><p><strong>What to see what happens next? Check out chapter 2!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:**** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Hello, yes I'm back with a second chapter!**

**Thank you all for the great feedback, it was epic to see that you guys are actually interested.**

**And Cherry, thank you for being the best muse I could ask for.**

**Happy reading folks!**

Mase turned reluctantly to face Billy exhaling in an attempt to retain even the slightest control over himself.

If only he couldn't feel her behind him. The warmth of her studious gaze burning into his back and the faint tickle of her breath torturing the nape of his neck in tendrils of air that made sensitive hairs stand on end.

His fists balled up before him, heavily set upon the desk like paper weights in an endeavor to anchor himself down. His eyes closed briefly, seeking relief of the bewildering oppression she held over him.

"So, without further delay, as I'm sure you're all sick of my face, allow me to introduce Professor Masen..." groaned Billy in his monotoned, obnoxious slur.

Edward's ears perked up from the subdued depths of his subconscious, and within that hundredth of a second, he was on autopilot. A torpedo jet; sleek, strong... and unyielding, with a foreboding dominance, gliding with elegance towards the center of the room.

Without a single articulation, the room was his. He owned every person that sat before him; their stares, their ears, their thoughts. Masen had left the female audience in a tantalizing fog, in which they could marinate and lull in his suave limbo.

His confident stride reached the desk and, swiftly, he slid behind it, placing his hands, palm flat, upon the polished mahogany. His head was tipped forwards, the wisps of copper hair sweeping upon his brow and the way his right hip was rolled to one side had Bella perched on the edge of her seat, eagerly leaning over her notes, hoping to capture his scent, his taste – anything.

This God-like man had her heart in unsteady palpitations and her thoughts in a violent whirlwind.

_**Professor**_ _Masen. Even his name sounds hot. Is that possible? Can names be hot?_

Masen's head slowly lifted.

_Most definitely, yes, they can be._

The ring on her finger reminded her of her lifestyle choice, and she twirled the band, lost in its small reflective surface. Bella had found her inward speech in fearful distaste and left it as it was, uneasily lingering in her head like a foreign object. Sooner or later, she would have to face it. And it already nagged, throbbing in her brow dirtily.

She was, however, quickly distracted.

Two molten emerald eyes were revealed gradually; they smoked with danger, a warning signal for anyone that happened to be caught within them. Professor Masen's glowing eyes were now fiercely staring back at the many sets of gazes in the room, catching them straight on, without a blink or hesitation.

His lips parted, a velvet tongue rolled across them, leaving a trail of glistening moisture upon their cardinal shade and finally, he spoke, still in his palm-planted stance. Well-rounded vowels stroked the air in a smooth caress, which nourished the entranced women, basking them in aural pleasure.

"Let me make a few things abundantly clear. One: I am to be addressed as Mr Masen, Professor Masen, or Sir...however, I will accept the occasional use of Master..." His callous lips curled up toward his eyes in a wicked sneer, amused by his irony. A low muse of laughter drifted across the room, but he continued, ensuing it into silence.

"Two: I have zero tolerance for anyone that does not pull their weight..."

He moved out from behind the desk and had now began to track the front row of students in a commanding manner, forcing a few of the more timid personalities back against their seats.

"This includes any time-wasters, class clowns, and those with a lack of input, late work hand-ins, or poor attendance and...punctuality."

His athletic body turned to face Bella and her breath was caught in a fist at the back of her throat. Professor Masen's silent dominance had her backed into a non-existent corner, and his eyes, which were currently laying an intimidating stare over her, seemingly penetrating her being in the most intimate of ways.

"Miss Swan, if you are late to my lesson, you may as well not arrive at all, because the only way I will help you out will be by showing you the door," Edwards voice snapped coolly. "Am I understood?"

Silently, Mase struggled to keep a cool exterior when face to face with _his_ Miss Swan. She piqued his needs and wants in threatening ways. It was her quiet, warm nature, and the way she filled the room with her submissive and addictive essence; strawberries and cream, just like her skin.

Bella nodded quickly; his attention was intense, too intense for her inexperienced soul. "Yes, Professor Masen."

She recoiled into herself, elbows sticking to her sides, making herself as small as Masen had made her feel inside, and she buckled with yet more thoughts.

_Okay, he's hot, but he's scary. And now I have to suffer the year under his teaching. Why did I choose Columbia again? To be bent over the desk and...what am I thinking!_

Mr Masen's voice pulled her back from her sensually dazed state. "Three..." he had moved back to the center of the floor space again, "When I say to do something, I expect you to do it. When I ask you a question, I expect it to be answered. And when I enter the room, I expect silence - follow these rules and I can assure you that all of your educational needs will be met."

~o0o~

Masen's performance seemed to have the entire class in awe for a good hour and a half. This handsome thespian of teaching handled the room with an effortless talent for his art.

With a hand now placed on the book at the end of the desk, he lifted it, holding it just above his well -formed shoulder for everyone to see, "The study of human behaviour in Psychology. Read the first four chapters before the next class. You will need to take notes in order to properly grasp the introduction topics and make a thorough assessment. If it isn't done, you'll be punished – plain and simple."

Mase pondered on the subject of chastisement.

_An alabaster ass, in contrast to the dark lumber its owner is forced over, tilted deliciously in the air, open to the heavens and all that supposedly resides there. It would start with the heavy breathing; anticipation is an intoxicating drug. But, what choice would they have but to indulge? I'd take my time stroking, caressing the clean, smooth skin beneath the rougher palm of my hand, allowing just an edge of security and the addiction of my touch. Then my hand would leave, and she would sigh in its absence, only for it to brutally reign down upon the cushioned muscle. Over and over it would strike, bringing blood to its surface in promiscuous patterns, and then rubbing in the blanket of spiking pain with firm, skilled fingers. – Yes, Miss Swan, this is what happens when you don't follow your Master's rules._

Isabella's mouth was more arid than the Atacama desert, having been sponged of all moisture by the formidable Professor that tested not only her ability to speak, but also her usually pure thoughts. Taking a drink from the bottle of water she had already delved into her bag for, she drank away the dryness, guzzling it down as if she had been starved for days.

Edward turned on his well-made heel and swaggered back behind the desk, putting the book back down as it was and bringing his hands together in slap, which pulled a number of students' eyes up from their books, jolting awake their senses to the invading, ricocheting noise.

"Class is dismissed. If you're in urgent need of help, I can be contacted via email, which you can find on the student server."

He watched as the bodies in the room began to shuffle out with their belongings in an orderly fashion, a shallow murmur of conversation humming between friends and roommates. Yet one person remained in her seat, huffing and mumbling to herself in a critical tone.

Bella had met a watery end, the sudden invasion of noise had startled the doe-eyed beauty, who was now fumbling to no avail with the soaking wet blouse which wrinkled and clung to her pale flesh.

Masen felt the all-too-familiar twinge in his already-fitted suit pants, and he was perplexed as to its cause. Without another worry about his hardening situation, he strode towards the awkwardly-flustered Isabella and stood in the row in front of her, resting his toned rear on the stable wood behind him, and bridged his arms strongly over his chest.

"It looks at though you have a problem, Miss Swan" he spoke, tugging Bella from her odd mutterings.

She swallowed thickly and shuffled through possible responses, her fresh pores blooming into a crimson brilliance that had Masen's fists grappling into the edge of the desk.

"I had...an accident."

Her blush grew, the choice of words settling into the room with a double meaning.

"I see that, Miss Swan. I merely wanted to offer a possible solution..." He pulled the handkerchief out from his suit lapel pocket and passed it to her, his eyes coming to rest on her chest. Her floral patterned bra was clearly visible through the translucent material, and it had his crotch stirring with barbaric excitement, only aiding his wanton desire for her, to claim her in the only way he knew how.

Her brows furrowed into the centre of her forehead.

_Handkerchief? Of course he has a handkerchief._

Bella's brown orbs tried to match his gaze, only to see that they had sunk South. The apples of her cheeks, already burning, inflamed with an unlikely anger, had Edward Masen amused.

_He's staring at my chest. My professor is staring at my chest. The nerve of this...stunningly brilliant man._

"Mr Masen, if you would kindly look me in the eye, I would much prefer to thank you face to face."

The professor's eyes left the comfort of her chest, which slowly rose and fell in a relaxing rhythm. And upon meeting her glowing irises, he didn't apologize; he didn't even look remotely sorry.

"I'll expect the handkerchief back from you the next time we meet for class, Miss Swan. Washed, without the slightest sign of usage." His mouth angled into a crooked smile with the assignment he had set her. He wanted to test the lengths to which she would go to please him, to see if his initial instinct about her was correct.

_Will she do it? Fuck, I hope so...her body is so responsive. Even now, it acts and displays her thoughts so openly. Once I have you, Miss Swan, I'll play your body like a finely-tuned instrument._

"Of course, Mr Masen. I was brought up in an old fashioned household; therefore, I am an old fashioned girl...manners are of great importance to me."

_'Girl,'_ thought Masen, 'there's the first problem.'

_I don't dominate girls, I dominate women - strong, highly strung women._ _More to the point..._w_hy would she refer to herself as a girl?_

He shook his head of the thought and continued to survey her behaviour and the way her small frame shuffled within the tattered, squalid sneakers that had seen better days.

Bella had seen the way his nose wrinkled in distaste for her choice of footwear. She wished the ground would swallow her up, anything would be more bearable than having to suffer his belittling scrutinising. With the compulsion to defend herself, the timid bird lifted her hand to her mouth, fingers padding her lips in comfort.

And that's when he saw it: set upon her left hand was a mundane silver band. It glinted against the synthetic lights that bathed the room in a man-made glow. Masen's arms tensed and compressed into his sides, the consciousness of Miss Swan's etiquette and previous statements echoing in his head.

"_I was brought up in an old fashioned household...manners are of great importance to me."_

_**FUCK**__...Well this is just fucking perfect, isn't it? Well-fucking-done, Masen. You want to dominate the fuck out of a virgin...as if you weren't enough of a self-loathing prick._

Mase's hand tugged through his unruly bronze hair. Hushing out in staggered breaths he hissed, "Virgin..."

Bella blinked in sporadic intervals, muddling over what she thought she had just heard.

_What does that have to do with anything?_

The cool surface of the ring stung the tropic temperature of her lower lip.

_My ring..._

Her hand shot away from her mouth and concealed itself behind her back, safely clasped within the other.

Chocolate eyes toned down to the floor, almost ashamed of what the Professor had said. "I should leave. Th-thanks for the handkerchief."

And with that, she turned and was soon gone, leaving the Professor to stew in his own anger.

_You, Masen, are of the worst kind of man. _"_F__ilthy worsted-stocking knave; a lily-livered, action-taking, whoreson, glass-gazing, super-serviceable, finical rogue; one whom I will beat into clamorous whining if thou deni'st the least syllable of thy addition."_

'Yes' – he thought, 'That, is me.'

~o0o~

The library thrummed in movement and hushed tones; students searching, reading, exchanging notes and small talk. Autumn sun polished the old bookshelves as it shone in through the ancient Venetian blinds of an almost empty aisle. The invading light cast in slim slats, revealing the dust that cascaded down and layered a number of the moth-eaten spines: the reference aisle had certainly seen better days.

Within the shadows stood the statuesque and unmistakable form of Professor Masen, the tall anti-hero that made being an asshole look good, or so thought Jessica Stanley & co, who currently admired the barely visible man from across the room. A book was laid flat in his left hand as the right turned the pages with methodical concentration.

His relaxed body was a sharp contrast to the turmoil that ensued inside him; the thoughts and feelings he had for the russet-haired virgin in his class was an ever turning coin. On the one side was this compulsion and unexplained need for her, and the other was a diabolical shame for his thoughts and morals – not that he had many to begin with.

_So why is Isabella Swan so different?_

He had searched the student profiles he was given prior to his introduction and her first name was a welcome fact amidst others. He had imagined her close friends calling her Bella; a perfect fit, as she was indeed beautiful. He, however, had decided that he would call her Isabella. He hated people shortening his own name and he enjoyed the way the vowels slipped from his tongue; he had repeated it to himself in sordid whispers within the darkness of his bedroom the night before.

The book clasped shut in his hand and he carried it out of the aisle with the intention of taking notes from it for an upcoming seminar. Aware that he could not remove the book from the four walls surrounding him, he made his way into one of the open seating areas, only to be met with the biggest distraction he could think of.

_Isabella Swan, you haunt me with temptation._

Bella's voice rang beneath her whisper- light and free in a chiming timbre - she was not alone. A blonde female sat across from her. Bella's back was to Masen and she absentmindedly listened as her friend chatted all too loud for his liking, though he could only make out occasional parts of their conversation.

"What do you mean, Bella? Professor who? Never heard of him."

Edward moved behind the shelf running along the same avenue as the desk, his ear perking out for their voices through the quiet murmurs of others.

"No Rose, Billy Black was required to change his schedule due to some medical treatment. It means he's unable to teach the class frequently so Professor Masen was hired to take over..."

"So, this _Professor Masen_, is he any good?" asked a curious Rose.

Bella choked. "Oh yeah, he's good"

Rose's shapely eyebrow quirked, and the corner of her mouth turned upwards. "Bella, Bella, Bella...I think you have a crush."

The pale brunette feigned horror and aghast breaths quickly left her opened lips. "What? No, don't be ridiculous, Rose." Her hand dismissed the accusation with nonchalance, yet the obvious blush in her cheeks inclined the loud blonde to make up her own mind.

"Bella, I'm so proud of you! Shit girl, you're crushing for the first time. You _have_ to tell me about him. Is he hot? What does he look like?"

The flustered friend sighed as Masen revealed himself from behind the cover of the bookshelf and hovered with his back to both women. A broad and explicit smile tugged over his ample lips as he 'searched' the shelf before him, listening to his desire trail off in a bashful soliloquy over his shoulder.

"He's easy on the eyes, if that's what you wanted to hear."

Rose scoffed hard and rolled her eyes, "No, I want details. Not this half-assed idiocy."

Bella's lower lip was taken between her teeth, the cushioned skin marked bluntly as she contemplated what she should say.

"Fine... He's so easy on the eyes that he's difficult." She smirked and continued, Rose's interest further sparked. "Gosh, Rose. He's gorgeous; bright green eyes that shine so fiercely they're scary, warm pink lips and a jaw that Michelangelo couldn't have sculpted."

Rose's mouth opened to speak, but the suddenly feisty Swan was on a roll.

Sighing dreamily, Bella continued with caution. "He's tall with a body that...that...ungh, his body is obviously amazing, Rose. And then his hair, bronze, tousled and in a messy disarray." She then whispered. "Sex hair."

Again Rose's mouth opened, "Bel-"

"Don't get me started on his voice; it's just so smooth and commanding. He had every female in the room on their knees, metaphorically, of course. And Rose, I, Bella Swan, was one of them. There's just this one single problem...He's an absolute ass."

Rose's eyes widened, their focus upon the looming shadow just over Bella's shoulder.

She turned curiously in her seat and her face dropped like a dead weight. Cheeks gaunt with fear and red in tincture, brown eyes desperately tried to escape his abyssal poison-ivy orbs, but they were locked in his fury.

"Who's an ass, Isabella?" asked the stone-featured Professor.

I just put the corrections right into the text. It's a very interesting premise. Good luck!

**And there we have it! A longer chapter two.**

**I'm known for leaving things on a cliffhanger, sorry! ...Not really.**

**Let me know what you think?**

**Sources:**

**William Shakespeare – King Lear.**  
>"<em>Filthy worsted-stocking knave; a lily-livered, action-taking, whoreson, glass-gazing, super-serviceable, finical rogue;...one whom I will beat into clamorous whining if thou deni'st the least syllable of thy addition."<em>


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello, yep, I'm back!**

**I'm not too good with author notes, so I'll keep it brief:**

**Sorry it's taken so very long with this chapter. Hopefully it's not a huge disappointment to you all after the lengthy wait.**

**Thank you to my new Beta, Lexy who has put up with the vast amount of issues I have!**

**Thank you to my pre-readers.**

**And thank you to my muse. You know who you are.**

**I'm constantly amazed at how awesome the feedback has been, and trust me when I say I take it all on board. **

**Thank you all for bothering to read. **

* * *

><p>The Professor's eyes quipped with all the depth and volume of an orchestral choir, but only the hushed murmurs of those going about their business filled the room.<p>

"Well, Miss Swan?" asked the copper haired Professor.

Bella swallowed once more, her sandpaper throat caused her voice to sound out with coarse texture.

"I- um, well- I," She croaked.

His hip rolled out as his arms bridged over the muscular base of his chest and brows lifted in the expectation of a more substantial answer. But instead, Rose filled the void of silence between the pair.

"This has been...Lovely – but, I have to leave for my next class...Bella, you know how to find me." She stood with a warning stare that lingered a second too long on the Professor and his ever hard expression and then left.

"I'm waiting for you to answer me, Miss Swan, and when it comes to lack of manners, I'm a very impatient man." His emerald orbs continued to probe her; inflicting his eagle-eyed vision seemingly beneath her clothing, over her skin and each delicacy she had.

Finally, she admitted defeat. "I didn't think that you would hear me, I didn't mean..." Whispering as her feet shuffled around her bag beneath the table.

He cut her off with a razor sharp tone.

"Yes, you did, Isabella." Sitting, he pushed the chair out at an angle which gave Bella perfect view of his entire form; long, toned and skilled, the kind of body that even the purest of minds couldn't help but imagine working them to ecstasy. "You meant every word."

Suddenly, his features mirrored an image of self-contentment; lips inflicted with all the essence of a rogue beast. It was then she realized he had heard all she had to say: the good, the bad and the not so ugly. Instantly, her cheeks flared into clouds of crimson, and she fell once more into the abyssal hole of her shy nature.

"Now, Isabella, you had so much to say to your friend and now...so quiet." He gestured out to her with a refined hand. "Please continue with the complimentary soliloquy on your new Professor. I'd very much like to hear it in its entirety." His smile lifted closer to the shining green of his raw, erotic eyes. To her, he was exotic; a creature of temptation, sin, sex, intelligence, and natural arrogance all rolled in to one devilish weapon.

"I'd rather not, Professor Masen," she murmured out.

"No?" he questioned, lifting his foot to rest just above his knee and just below the bugling muscle of his thigh. "Well, I can't say that I'm not disappointed. With such enthusiasm for your Professor, one would think that your punctuation to class would be of a higher standard."

Bella, in a blush of red, desperately searched for an escape within the milling crowds. Sweating, her heart thud against her chest, unable to fathom the situation she was in and annoyed by Professor Masen's audacity to take advantage of the situation.

"I don't have to listen to this, Professor. I have another class to get to, so if you don't mind, I'll be leaving now..." She raked up her belongings into her arms as she spoke.

Standing and lifting a leg to step out from her chair, she hadn't realized how tangled her feet were in the long strap to her bag. It was too late. Pulling the knot tight around her ankle and having already committed herself to move, Bella fell, arms flailing back in a failed attempt to regain her balance. Instead, her flustered body plummeted, striking through the air with a maladroit sense of surrounding and landed straight into Professor Masen's openly awaiting lap.

A breathless and aroused grunt slipped from between his barely parted lips, and as if by familiarity, his hands treasured her hips tightly, allowing the dip of his pelvis to take the welcomed haven of Bella's ample ass.

In the few moments she spent there, Bella's world spiralled like the tendrils of hot breaths that graced her neck and cheek. She could feel him twitch and then grow beneath her, the gentle throb of his length as it hardened slightly to her weight and touch caused her to gasp with unwanted pleasure. The Professor's long digits cushioned into her flesh, taking ownership of it if just for a few milliseconds, before sliding away as she propelled herself from him and the fog of invading thoughts she had so long denied herself.

"I'm – s-sorry, oh my gosh, I'm so s-sorry." She fumbled, wide eyed and completely thrown back by what she had felt as she sat, nestled warmly against his crotch. Yet, what had thrown her more was the fact she liked it and how primitively right she felt in close contact to him – to all of him.

The hard-placed Professor quickly sat straight and adjusted himself as she crawled about on the floor, shoving books, binders and pens into her bag at a furious speed. All Bella wanted to do was run or have the floor swallow her in a classic case of dramatics. Instead she stood, mumbled another apology and scurried away to wallow in the catastrophic number of events that had just taken place.

If only she could forget his touch, his natural musky scent mixed with sense-inspiring cologne and his...she blushed hard and set her eyes to the floor, already asking for forgiveness.

-o0o-

Bella sat on the bench outside the local Church. The biting morning wind that had once battered the trees and tousled her hair into a nest had settled to a welcome breeze, allowing her to read in comfort. The congregation of crowds had dispersed after Sunday service and were now rested in one of many coffee houses across the street, leaving only a number of the elderly members, who gathered in conversation around the pastor.

Thoughts locked deep within the words of Shakespeare's 'Much Ado About Nothin', she hadn't noticed the onyx Aston Martin pull up alongside the pavement; windows tinted with obscurity.

The electronic hum caught in Bella's ears still wasn't enough to break her concentration; It was only when a strong tenor voice sounded out with a familiar smooth quality that she jumped back into reality with an all too cumbersome landing.

"I will do myself the right to trust none; and the fine is, for which I may go the finer, I will live a bachelor," he quoted.

Bella, having looked from her page, now faced a pair of aquamarine eyes and smiling lips. "Professor Masen!" she hailed, her voice peaked with surprise, only for it swallow back and then sound out once more. This time unwavering and narrow, with little other than attitude as she stood to him, resolute in holding her ground as she had failed to do days before. "I thank God and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that: I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me."

The Professor, still in his car, remained stunned with her abrupt response and mused over this brilliant and unexpected return, if only to one day, in his wildest fantasies, show exactly where back chatting would get her.

Gradually, he smiled, the same delicious one she had seen twice over, yet had all the same effect. "God keep your ladyship still in that mind! So some gentleman or other shall 'scape a predestinate scratched face." His recollection word for word.

Drawing closer to the window, Bella's book was slapped shut between her hands and words struck with a bitter edge. "Scratching could not make it worse, an 'twere such a face as yours were."

"Miss Swan, I'm surprised with your knowledge on such a fantastic literary classic." Professor Masen's delivery still adorned with surprise.

"Well, _Professor_, I do have an English class alongside yours."

"And I trust that you turn up to that class on time, _Miss Swan_?" He took another bite from the same time-keeping pie.

Still finding his conviction to discount her commitment for his class humiliating, Bella recoiled back within her comfort zone. "I assure you, I won't be late again, Professor." Now murmuring, she shoved the book back in her bag and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, biting her lip out of habit.

From a secure distance, outside eyes watched the on-going exchange between the Student-Teacher duo with great interest. Lingering more so on the young woman than the older male, the prying spy admired the shape of her bare calves and gradually worked up her body before settling on the flushed state of her cheeks.

"I'm glad to hear that, Isabella. It would be a shame for a mind such as yours to go to waste. I've seen your grades; you have a great connection with the study material," Professor Masen added, his arm now rested on the door and features emitting an adulterous sincerity.

Bella, with her lip still captured between her teeth, smiled demurely, nodded in polite and silent thanks, for once feeling slightly settled in his presence.

_At least he doesn't hate me_, she thought. Though, that did nothing for her racing heart.

The observant stranger had now begun to cross the street to make his way toward the pair. Stopping briefly as the tall male got out from the car built to ensue jealously and lean back against it in casual chat. A car horn sounded, pulling the unknown individual out of his frozen state and hurrying him over the road.

Bella cast her vision over the roof of the car and past the Professor, who had turned his head in curiosity. She gasped, lifting a hand to her mouth and stared on with horror toward the blonde, scrawny-looking man who jumped from the path of the car and smiled with cretinism.

_What on Earth is he doing here? a_sked her inward voice.

"Hi Bella, surprise!" the annoying male shouted and waved without order.

"M-Mike? Why...how?" Bella stumbled over her words, dumbfounded with his appearance.

The salient-eyed Professor boiled with thorny umbrage as the 'boy' laid a sloppy kiss on Bella's cheek and wrapped an arm over her shoulder. His body in a battle between tearing off Mike's arm or pulling Isabella from it. Professor Masen scowled, brows lowered down over his ever glinting oculars which continued to throw out daggers over the golden locked imbecile.

_Get your hands, mouth and body off her before I pull your spleen out through your mouth, h_e snarled, almost audibly.

Noticing the violent storm that seemed to have distributed over the Professor's face, Bella disrupted the awaiting violence, clearing her throat and gesturing out between the two awaiting gentlemen.

"Professor Masen, this is Mike Newton, a friend of my family. Mike, my Psychology teacher, Professor Masen."

Mike outstretched a hand in the traditional fashion, only for the awaiting recipient to look upon it with disdain before finally mimicking the action. Taking Mike's hand with a bone crushing strength, Masen shook it, causing the over-familiar 'family friend' to turn white and gasp for air, groaning in pain. "NICE...to meet YOU, Profes-SOR."

Beaming through gritted teeth, Masen responded. "The pleasure is _all_ mine."

Shrugging away from Mike, Bella took a few choice steps closer to the Professor, surprising herself in the process.

"So, Bella, your father sent me, he figured you might be getting lonely out here and said you could use the company," progressed Mike

The look on Bella's face spoke a thousand words. She felt sickened by the gesture. Mike Newton was slimy enough without the added influence of her father, Phil. Even over a thousand miles away, his power and authority still held her in an iron vice grip.

Anger infused with the awakening embarrassment of Mike's presence, she stood still, captured between the sturdy walls of two men she didn't exactly care for. One: excessively arrogant, debonair, audaciously forward, controlling, intellectual and yet...tempting. Two: well, there weren't enough synonyms to adequately fathom just how repulsive Mike was.

Decision made.

"I'm sorry, Mike," stated Bella. "But, Professor Masen and I have a prior engagement. He's assisting me with my paper - you can go home."

The Professor, who up until this moment, had been on lock down for fear of his temper getting the better of him, smiled and aided the poor girl in ridding herself of the amphibian to have crawled out of the nearest algae-filled pond like some sort of Scooby Doo monster reject.

"Yes, Mike. Isabella and I have a lot we need to cover in the short time we have, so if you don't mind, we'll be leaving now." Gesturing toward the car, the Professor opened the door, watching as she folded herself neatly into the passenger seat.

Laying her bag on her lap, Bella fumbled, cheeks still hot with anger and humiliation. She monologued to herself that this was the right thing to do.

_He will drive me home, or at least around the corner and then let me out so I can get on with my day. Both Mike-less and Professor-less._

Once in the car, Professor Masen didn't speak, he turned on the ignition and pulled away from the curb and its stunned occupant. Street after street passed, the traffic was as bad as any other day, but falling into the camouflage of people wasn't going to be a problem. At that moment in time, they weren't a teacher and student, at least not to on-looking eyes; they were a man and a woman, friends, lovers, who cares? They were incognito and free to do as they wished.

The Professor smiled that lurid smile and finally spoke. "So, Miss Swan, I take it you're not as acquainted with Mr Newton as he would like you to be?"

Bella shuffled in her seat, turning attention away from his pearl-white charm. "You could say that. Though, I don't doubt that my father had a bigger task for him than keeping me company."

"Oh?" He avoided directly inquiring. "Well, I'm sorry to hear that you're lonely-."

"I'm not...I'm not lonely. I'm fine. Not that it's any of your business."

"You see, that's where you're wrong. – The brain is a complicated place, Miss Swan. It has the most complicated wiring job you'll ever see, creating the most complicated of problems; therefore, making life...complicated." He smiled again; bigger, broader, brilliantly obnoxious. "Your private life could easily affect your student life, your work, your grades. See where I'm going with this?"

"Crystal clear, Professor Masen. You can drop me off at the next corner, I can walk from there." Bella pointed to the small grocery store listed as 'Alph's'.

"Nonsense," he mused, his green orbs burning in tinctured flame. "I'm helping you with your paper, remember?" His large hands held the wheel smoothly, caressing its supple bend with expert fluidity as he turned corners, easing the sleek vehicle into thrumming groans with each movement.

Bella had never wanted to be an inanimate object so much in all her bubble-wrapped life. Nor had she ever been so jealous of one. Because if being owned and so strongly handled by Professor Masen meant that she would be compelled into such hungry hums, she'd gladly take the ride.

"My paper? Oh right...my paper." She pushed the thoughts from her head and shuffled awkwardly. "Is that allowed?... I mean, isn't it cheating?"

"Considering I've not yet set you the task of writing anything other than notes, I think we're just fine."

Toning her eyes down to her lap, Bella flushed bright red and bit her lower lip in self-frustration. "Of course, my mistake. Sorry for dragging you into all of this."

"There's no need for apologies." He parked up outside a coffee shop. "Let me buy you a hot beverage and then I'll take you home. Consider it – a cure for loneliness."

Masen fueled his torment by absorbing her body wrapped in the confines of her dress. The dark desire and hunger which blazed within him allowed his inner beast to continue its primitive prowl around the young, unsuspecting virgin. Like a lion on the plains of Africa, her scent and body was his for consumption, his hunt had begun.

-o0o-

The floor was cold. But, she would continue to wait, listening to the same melancholy songs that had played three times over now, brimming the silent void in the darkly lit room with electric anticipation. It spiraled with the humid tones and the smell of sexual and patriarchal sovereignty, leaving the atmosphere tensely alive.

Matching the gothic tune was the light, or absence of it. Only silky strands of sunlight managed to streak through gaps in the blinds, casting a comforting warmth against her naked behind; uncovering the fog of red which covered her still quaking flesh. The caps of her knees hurt and the balls of her feet strained in cramps, but nothing would make her move. Not the tickle of her long brown hair, or the uncomfortable shield wrapped over her burnished-shaded eyes.

She missed his unyielding presence, she missed his blissful touch, and she missed sound of his voice as he would order her to obey him.

The door was barely two meters away and like a puppy, she would wait. Wait for his echoing footsteps in the lobby, returning to release her of the position she had been ordered to remain in.

She would please him. That was all she ever wanted to do. Because she enjoyed his pleasurable rewards that rained with passion and pain.

But, equally because Master is so, very, very good at giving punishment.

* * *

><p><strong>And there we have it. <strong>

**Leave any comments or suggestions you have.**

**I'm going to try REALLY hard not to be an absent-minded goldfish and get the next chapter out in two weeks. **

**Until then...**

_Quoted text is Shakespeare's – 'Much ado about nothing'. (Beatrice and Benedick.)_


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